Under the Jumper
by WolfofthePine
Summary: Star Trek: 2009 Alternate Universe, modern day: Hikaru is a pilot, Pavel works at a major university. Plot: When Hikaru comes from a long flight, Pavel is acting strange, and he is determined to find out why. What he discovers is not what he would have ever imagined... UPDATE: Formatting has been fixed!


**Author's Note: Possible self harm trigger, be careful**

Pavel lay on his side on the bed. He tried to pull his long, striped sleeves even further over his hands. He wasn't wearing any concealer today; he'd run out. Hikaru would be home today, and it was the day he had forgotten his makeup. He sighed heavily and tried to bury himself deeper into the thin comforter.

The door to the small flat opened, and Pavel jumped off the bed to see who was coming in. Hikaru closed the door, and dropped his briefcase as the younger man wrapped his arms around him.

"I missed you so much, 'Karu," He said, kissing him then letting him go.

"I missed you too," The pilot grinned wearily down at him.

The two walked into the dark kitchen. The neon green numbers on the clock read _1:45. _The tea he'd made hours earlier was stone cold. He went to make some more as Hikaru opened the cupboard to look for a box of biscuits or crackers or something of the nature. He loved being a pilot, but being away from Pavel was pretty trying for both of them. Even the dark, Pavel looked sick. His skin was pale, his eyes had dark circles beneath them, and his oversized long sleeved jumper made him seem even skinnier and smaller than he was. He looked so young. And it scared the pilot slightly. Something wasn't right.

"Pasha," Hikaru said, putting his hand on the other's. "Is something wrong?"

"Nyet, I'm…fine," He replied, taking the kettle off the stove and pouring the water through the teabags in their cups.

"Why are you wearing the sweater then? It's not that cold in here, and you're Russian. Cold doesn't bother you."

"It's comfy, I guess," He replied quickly, handing Hikaru a cup of the dark Russian tea. The steam drifted slowly from the dark liquid, and Hikaru gazed at Pavel as he sat down.

"Vhy are you staring at me?" He asked, shifting in his seat.

"Because there's something wrong, Pasha."

"Zhere isn't," He cried weakly, pulling down his sleeves. Hikaru had noticed him do this several times. It was troubling, and he stood up. Pulling his chair over to Pasha, he put his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Pasha, please tell me what's going on."

"Zhere isn't anyzing 'going on,'" Pavel said, getting up and putting his cup in the sink. Hikaru followed suit. He didn't want to keep prying, but his love was troubled. And he wanted to help.

Pasha's thin body was snuggled against Hikaru's when he turned around and sat up.

"'Karu?" His voice was shaking.

"Yes, Pasha?" He replied, turning on the lamp.

"Vhy do you zink somezing's wrong?"

"You just seem so sad," He said, swallowing. "I can almost feel how heavy your heart is."

Silence. Hikaru reached over and took Pavel's hands in his own. He knew the Russian was about to cry, and he was right along with him. He took a deep breath and pulled up the sleeves. The other let out a strangled cry but didn't stop him. Line after line of scars were revealed in the light. They covered both forearms and were in varying stages of fading. There were not new cuts. Hikaru looked up to Pavel. Tears were silently streaming down his face. He brushed tears from the Russian's chin and cheeks.

"Pasha," He said, words sticking in his throat. "What happened?

"You know vhat zhey are. I am wery sorry, but I stopped for you. It's been two years," He murmured.

"Oh Pasha, why did you do that?"

"It helped. I can explain it to you medically if you vant, but it'll just be simpler to say I did it because I was hurting. But zhen you came along, and you vere vun of the only people who really cared about me. You told me you loved me every day, and I started to see it vas true. I truly hated myself before zhen. I had vanted to end my life; I zought about it every night. Zhen you came. And… I-I knew you vere ze the man I vanted to spend all my life vith…" His sentence trailed off, and Pasha raised his tear-stained face to look at Hikaru. Tears also dripped down the pilot's face.

Hikaru wrapped his arms around Pavel, pulling him into his chest. All he wanted was to erase the scars and the pain from Pavel's past. How had he never known? How had he never noticed? He'd seen all of Pavel, and he'd never seen anything. God, was he just stupid? Pavel pulled away slightly, and Hikaru let him go.

"I'm wery sorry, Hikaru," he said, blue eyes watery.

"Pasha…I love you. But I never noticed. I'm so sorry."

"You mustn't blame yourself, moy dorogoy. You stopped the pain. You-you fixed me." Pavel said, kissing Hikaru's forehead. "I lowe you. Now, please don't worry; I'm fine now. Thank you for being my saviour."

Hikaru's mind won't stop twirling and spinning even after he was rewrapped around Pavel. The small Russian breathed deeply as he dreamed and seemed so peaceful. After a little while, his darling's breathing lulled him to sleep like a beautiful unsung lullaby. The song of the peaceful, the song of dreaming, and the song of the loved. He was home.

Thanks for reading! If you would review, that would be LOVELY! -J


End file.
